


3x5

by delightfulalot



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-05
Updated: 2004-05-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightfulalot/pseuds/delightfulalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bus stopped. Startled by the unexpected stop, she gathered her thoughts and stood up, edging to get out of the bus as quickly as possible. The only thing she had with her was her notecard. </p><p>Or: Jess asks Rory to go away with him. She visits him in New York with her answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3x5

She looked at the notecard in her hand. The words remained the same. She sighed; lowered the card. Why was she doing this again? She couldn't remember for the life of her. All she knew was that she had to do it. She  _had_  to do it. If she didn't do it, who would?

Well, that was a stupid question, because it wasn't something that  _had_  to be done or else the earth would stop rotating or something. She just had to do it for her. Herself. Her...sleeping patterns. Her mother, who finally smiled in the mornings, every morning, and grinned just thinking about the diner, and anything remotely related to the diner.

She shook her head, lifting the notecard again. This time she flipped it over, to read the other side. She committed the address to memory, repeating it over and over in her head. She hoped he was there, because if not, this entire trip would be a waste. She knew she'd never get the courage to make it back out here.

She smiled a wry little smile. Who would have ever thought she'd be making this trip a second time for the same person? It was a different reason, though...actually, no, it wasn't. It was, fundamentally, in her heart of hearts and mind of minds, the same reason.

And it wasn't the fact that he'd just left again. No, that was different. He'd definitely said goodbye this time. This time, he'd tried to get her to go with him.

Remembering the way he'd looked standing in the hallway, his longer and less-styled hair cutely framing his face, she smiled a slight smile, and settled her forehead on the bus window, seconds before reeling and pulling back. This was, after all, a public bus.

She settled her gaze on her lap, where her hands were playing absentmindedly with the card, turning it over and over. The backside had been committed to memory; what about the front? The words were much longer, more full of emotion, and, she realized, running her hand over them, basically her heart, laid out there on a 3x5 card. She marvelled at the feeling. She never did this.  _Never_. Her heart was always tied up in her chest, held there by two hands and hundreds of memories of her broken-hearted mother.

But her mother seemed happy. Her mother seemed esctatic, actually. Her mother was esctatic, finally, and it had all happened because someone had taken a chance. The least likely person to take a chance.

So, the second least likely person to take a chance was doing the same, hoping for similar results, and maybe even-

The bus stopped. Pulled up to a stop, right there in Port Authority. Startled by the unexpected stop, she gathered her thoughts and stood up, edging to get out of the bus as quickly as possible. The only thing she had with her was her notecard, now starting to soften at the edges from over-handling. She gripped it tighter while pushing her way to the street, holding her hands to her stomach.

When the crowd finally spilled into open air, she glanced at a street sign, promptly turned on her heel, and headed the opposite way. She knew exactly where she was going, too. She'd spent forty minutes on MapQuest and another twenty buried in a Manhattan map before taking this trip. This time, she wasn't going to be touristy.

The apartment building was horrible. Very unlike every single TV apartment ever, and exactly what she expected. She walked up the multiple flights of stairs-no elevator, of course-and made her way down the hall.

And then, she was there.

She knocked.

She waited for an answer.

She knocked again.

The door opened.

"Hey, Todd!" his voice yelled back into the room. "It's four o'clock!" He turned towards her and stopped in mid-move, his bag halfway up his arm and his face frozen.

"Hi," she said, a little out of breath. When he didn't answer or move, she added a tentative smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, letting his bag drop to his hand, his eyes searching her face.

She shrugged. "I didn't think. I just...came."

The shocked look on his face faded, and she could see his hidden smile lurking underneath the surface. Her tentative smile got a little more anchored.

"What are you doing right now?" he asked, pulling the door closed behind him and leaning against it.

"Trying not to panic." She laughed mirthlessly, and when his smile didn't appear, she lifted her card. She tried desperately to read the sweat-blurred worn words, but couldn't make anything out. Except one word: Love. She smiled at her card and lifted her head. He was smirking at the card, and she knew she could find a way in.

Opening her mouth, she prepared to say what was on her notecard and in her heart.

 


End file.
